Appearance: At first glance, Jazira is beauty itself. She's a sharp crystal white, layered with a shining silvery-gray and speckled with black dots. Her build is tall and slender, with long legs and a graceful neck. Her eyes would be equally beautiful, a dark green, yet they are as cold and heartless as emeralds. Her voice, when she wants it to be, is sickly sweet and seductive. She can lure away even the hardest of cats. She has an air of natural confidence and almost arrogence about her, but always keeps her voice sweet, unless her short temper snaps.

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Personality: Jazira is cruel, cold, and heartless. She has a nasty temper and a cunning mind. She feels no true loyalty to any cat, but will fight for a cat that stands for what she believes in. She hates everything and everyone, caring only of herself. She will kill for pleasure, though only occasionally. Using her looks and outward charm, along with a sickly sweetness, she lures victims, usually toms, into the shadows then kills them. She uses this tactic to bring down virtual 'armies' of cats, killing their leaders, or to gain territory. Other times, she'll do it out of boredom. She is a born and trained killer and assassin. She can move quietly and swiftly, and use the same 'charm' she has with cats on any living animal. She's not scared of pain or death, and since she has closed herself off to fearing the pain or death of others, she is phsycologically unstoppable. Her long legs give her speed and make her quick and nimble. She is the leader of the rogues, and she is feared, awed, and respected equally.

History: Born a kittypet in a far-away place, for the first year of her life, Jazira was lugged from cat-show to cat-show, her looks winning her another many hours stuck behind the mesh of her cat cage as she continued to win. Slowly, her resentment grew to hate. She hated the cat cage, hated her two-leg, hated the cats and two-legs she competed against, and most of all, hated the cats that ran free while she was stuck behind bars. She had never seen the clan cats, but had heard of them and how they ran without bars across moors and forests, marshes and swamps. At 11 moons, though, she managed to slip out of the house and, without a backward glance, disapeared. She roamed far and wide, eventually coming across the rogue lands on the outside of clan territory, her grudge of the forest clans stronger than ever. By then, she had learned to hunt, fight, and kill, freezing herself up against the world. It took her barely any time at all to gather beneath her all the rogues and even some loners, using bribes, threats, and seduction. She took as her second the cat called Ghostdance, and together they have ruled long and successfully.